


i hope it was worth it to you (as much as it was to me)

by spotsuns



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Parting Ways post-canon, descriptions of eye trauma but not really graphic !!, finn did like 2 years of parole before heading to mexico, theyre Corny corny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21790021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spotsuns/pseuds/spotsuns
Summary: a tender little post-parting ways oneshot about sean’s eye and finn’s feelings about it.
Relationships: Sean Diaz/Finn
Comments: 15
Kudos: 130





	i hope it was worth it to you (as much as it was to me)

Every night before bed Sean takes out his prosthetic eye and leaves it to soak while he sleeps, and every time, he immediately slips on his eye patch with his pajamas. 

Finn’s caught glimpses of it before, empty between changes while he brushes his teeth or steps out of the shower to Sean mid-change, but he’s never _really_ seen it. He’s never felt like it was his business to ask.

It makes his chest hurt, even now. But there’s a part of him that will always want to know how bad it is. That part of him stuck in that hospital bed, staring at the boy on the other side of the window, wearing nothing but a gauze dressing over the great unknown. The source of several bad nights of sleep; horrible dreams. 

Sean drops the prosthetic carefully into a little jar of solution, closes the lid, and reaches for his eyepatch.

“Wait—“

Finn holds his hand out.

He’s nervous for the first time in a long time. He has butterflies. 

“Is it—I’ve never… I’ve never seen it. Is it okay if I take a look? I just wanna know—“ He sighs. This shouldn’t be this hard by now. “I _need_ to know. My mind’s not gonna let me catch a break ‘til I do.” 

Sean peeks over his right shoulder to look at Finn in his peripheral, eye big and lips turned into a surprised ‘o’. He looks like a kid again like this. It makes Finn’s heart swell.

“Yeah, of course.” Sean smiles softly. He needs to shave, but Finn isn’t going to be the one to tell him. “You could have asked any time, y’know. I really don’t mind. It was so long ago now… no big deal.” 

He turns on the bed to fully face Finn and sit straight across from him, and that’s when it becomes visible. 

The lid droops down and obscures most of what’s behind it, but it’s still a big change from the filled out version Finn’s gotten used to. It makes him look even older, somehow. 

“You can get closer, it’s not gonna _bite_.”

“I know, sweetie. I just—okay.”

Finn takes a deep breath and gets up on his knees until he’s level with Sean, then he sits on them. 

“Is it okay if I… touch a little bit? Just washed my hands, _swear.”_

“Yeah, yeah. I believe you. That’s fine.”

He reaches up a shaking hand. 

Starting underneath it, he runs his thumb along the hollow of Sean’s cheekbone, and then slowly works his way up until his thumb is resting right underneath the hollow socket where the skin droops. 

He can see the scar where the piece of glass must have been that took the eye with it; perfectly centered and symmetrical on the top and bottom. 

“Sean…” 

“It’s okay, Finn. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Seriously, I forget I ever even had it these days.” 

He knows Sean’s trying to be comforting. He knows that Sean means it. Neither of those things matter, though. 

Sean never should have been through that pain. 

Sean never should have had to get used to it. 

Sean never should have had to learn basic depth perception again.

Sean never should have had to learn how to draw again. 

Sean should have both of his eyes. 

He would have both of them, if not for Finn’s stupid fucking plan that nearly ruined everything. 

Finn would he able to look into both of them, just like he used to, and get lost. Go exploring. Fall in love all over again just like he did that day in Beaver Creek. The boy in the orange jacket. The one with the pretty eyes. 

Of course, the one eye Sean _does_ have left is still his absolute favorite in the whole world, prettier than any other eye he’s ever seen, but it’s hard to stomach knowing that’s he’s responsible for it being the only one Sean’s got left. It shouldn’t be. 

He forgets sometimes that Sean can’t see on his left side. 

He forgets when he holds something out to him that Sean can’t see until he turns his head. He forgets when he kisses Sean on his left cheek and Sean jumps in surprise, because he couldn’t see him coming. 

He forgets when they’re really into a movie and Sean has to go to bed halfway through, because he’s got eye strain that will follow him to work the next day if he doesn’t stop, and he won’t be able to look at his engines carefully enough. 

Somehow, it’s only hitting Finn now that he sees it fully empty. 

He glances at the right one and imagines it there, just like it used to be, just like it was the night Sean stared right into his eyes before leaning in and kissing him under the redwoods. That was probably the last real look he ever got of it. 

He should feel lucky that it was the only casualty that night. 

He doesn’t.

If somebody had to lose an eye, he wishes to god that it had been his instead. 

Not much to miss when you’re a non-artist like him. Eyes good for seeing the world, sure, but nothing to contribute. He’s got the best view in the world right here, at least. 

He presses the pad of his thumb to Sean’s brow, gently raising his eyelid to peer behind it. It’s just as expected, pink fleshy stuff, no eyeball. Finn can feel stinging in his own eyes; tears threatening to brim over. 

He always said that the past was the past, and you just gotta focus on what’s next, but he never took into account the idea of having to look the past in the missing eye every single day. 

“Finn…” Sean’s brow pinches with worry. Finn feels stupid. He shouldn’t have asked. “Finn, hey, what’s—“

“Sean I’m so fuckin’ sorry, I—“ He lets out a wet sob. “I wish I could take it back. I wish I could change it, do it over again and do it right this time, save you all this hell you been through, I just wanted—nevermind. Sorry, that don’t matter now. It’s over with. I just… wish I could do that night over.”

“I don’t.” Sean says firmly. 

Finn gives him a puzzled look, tears running down both cheeks. He sniffles. 

“How? You lost an _eye_ how can—“

“Do you know how many times over those two years I spent thinking about that night? Especially those six months after; in Nevada, in Arizona, and right here. It’s like no matter where I was, I was just living in that moment, and I wanted more than anything to be able to go back and live it one more time.” 

Finn can’t believe what he’s hearing. A thought from his own mind, his own memories of that time. A perfect mirror. _I knew you and me were the same. I felt it from the start._

“It was like my lifeline for a really, really fucking long time. I told myself that one day I’d be happy like that again, one day I’d feel like that again, and it kept me going. Once Daniel was gone… fuck, it was all I had some days. So no, I wouldn’t change it for anything. I mean, look at us now. It wasn’t for nothing. We both have each other back.”

“Fuck. _Fuck._ Sean, I—god, I just love you. I love you more than I ever loved anything or anybody before, more than I love to travel, more than I love tearin’ shit up, more than I love—weed _.”_

“Whoa! Down boy, let’s not get crazy here.” Sean laughs. His face is soft. Finn knows that look well by now, the one he gets when he’s got too much to say and he doesn’t know how, so a joke comes out. Finn wore that expression for years. 

“Sean, seriously. What I’m gettin’ at is… I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t give to be with you and see you happy. That should scare me, but it doesn’t. It makes me feel real fuckin’ awesome, actualy. It almost feels like… a superpower.” 

Sean makes a face. That might have been a poor word choice. 

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean—“

“Hey, no, it’s fine. You’re fine. You’re fucking—more than fine. You’re incredible. You’re my favorite person in the whole world and that was beautiful, and I think I feel… the same.”

It’s so nostalgic to hear. Sean said the same thing when Finn poured his heart out in a love confession on that log in the woods. 

“Sean, I know I’m kinda... _intense,_ okay? You don’t have to fake bein’ on my level of whatever this is. I know you, and I love how you love me. It’s perfect. I’m just kinda nuts, I guess, but you have that effect on me. Always have.” 

“I know that, and I appreciate it, but… I think I really do mean it this time. I spent so long putting Daniel first because I had to. He’s my brother, and I would do it all over again, no matter what—”

The words are left unspoken, but Finn knows what he means. Even if it meant them never meeting. 

“But I spent two years completely alone after that just… finding myself. And yeah, sure, it was kinda nice after I finished adjusting to not having him under my feet, lots and lots of mourning and shit came first but—god. I missed you. I knew Daniel was happy and safe with Claire and Stephen, that he didn’t need me anymore, and I found peace with that, but—“

Finn can feel a new wave of tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping off his nose and onto his lap, or maybe it’s Sean’s. Sean reaches out and wipes them away softly. 

“I never found peace without you. Every day I wake up and I choose you, and it feels so fucking good. After everything… I know this is right. I know this is where I’m supposed to be. The second I crossed the border alone, I knew that it was fate that I had your number in my backpack. That fucking… _love letter._ ” Sean laughs. 

“Shit. Was I that obvious?”

“Oh I don’t know, you tell _me_ mister ‘ _I think about you more than you might believe.’,_ how do you think I was supposed to take that?”

“Depends, how much did you believe?” Finn asks, still sniffling. 

Sean rolls his eye and huffs in disbelief. 

“It was wishful thinking, looking back, but I always told myself you were too honest have been implying anything less than _often._ So… how right was I?”

Oh man. Where to start with that? ‘ _The second I woke up in that hospital bed to the second I was knockin’ on your front door, wondering what you would look like and if I’d be able to resist kissing you right then and there’_? ‘ Maybe. 

“Hm… pretty damn close. I’d just say it was probably every other thought I had until, well, mm… the day I got here? Then it was every thought I had. Nothin’ else goin’ on in there. Just Sean hours, twenty-four-seven.” 

“You’re such a fucking sap, you know that? Aren’t you getting too old to be such a romantic?” Sean asks. 

“Says the dad-bod with the beard!” Finn grabs Sean by his chin, fingers carding through the thickest part of his beard—Finn’s absolute favorite part. He kisses him, smiling into it the whole time. He can feel Sean smiling, too. 

“Hey! Not my fault you have those European genes making you look like a little elf boy for all of eternity. Some of us actually have to age at some point, y’know.”

“Not me! I ain’t ever gonna look a day over eighteen.” Finn boasts. 

Sean gets a cocky grin and tilts his head playfully to one side. 

“Keep on losing your teeth early, and we’ll see about that.” 

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! It was a freak accident, I told you. That car door came outta nowhere.” 

“You’re surrounded by freak accidents like I’m surrounded by random explosions. Hard to buy that you’re not related _somehow.”_

God, why must Sean always be right with his totally fair accusations? It’s getting old pretty fast. It would be annoying from anybody else, but he’s got the permanent Sean Pass for life. 

“We’re a couple of maniacs, ain’t we?” Finn asks. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Shit. After all I’ve done, I think I have you beat for sure, actually.” 

Sean says it with a laugh, but Finn knows it’s so far beyond true. He never could have handled half of the shit Sean’s done, and lived to tell the tale. 

Sean really is his person. 

The first person that’s ever been his. 

The only one to ever make him even consider the thought. 

The only one he left the only country he’s ever known for, when he still had about fifteen states left that he swore to see before he died. 

Mexico is better, though. Fuck Alabama anyway. 

“I love you. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself.” 

Sean smiles and kisses him again, hands on _his_ cheeks this time. 

“ _Te amo_. We’ve got all the time in the world, you know that.” 

Sean slips on his eyepatch and they settle into place under the covers. 

Finn reaches for the lamp when Sean grabs his wrist.

“Hey—I kinda want to take a picture right now for Daniel… is that weird?” He asks. 

“‘Course not, sweetie. I think we should! Even if you haven’t shaved in the past week, I know he’ll love it.”

Sean’s hand shoots up to his face, feeling the damage. 

“Oh shit, I’ve been so busy with the shop I didn’t even think to—“ 

“Hey now, don’t go gettin’ any ideas. I like it. You know that. Daniel might clown you for it, though. He better watch it, he’ll be growin’ his own in no time! Not gonna lie… I’m a little jealous.”

“Hey, I _like_ you looking like an elf. The sun’s been doing wonders for your freckles, never knew you had so many… I love those.” 

Finn scrunches his nose, where most of the freckles are, second only to his shoulders. 

“Yeah, yeah, you big sap. Get the camera out already.” 

Sean grabs it off of his bedside table. It’s old and clunky, a Polaroid left behind by Esteban in a box. It’s hard as hell to find the right film for it, which is why Sean takes these sparingly. 

They all go to Daniel, save for a couple that would have scarred him. And their grandparents, for that matter. Heat of the moment. Whoops. 

Sean clicks it on and they each put a hand on it to make sure they’re in frame together, then Sean clicks the shutter. 

They sit and wait for it to develop together. When it finally fills out in full color, Sean thinks that maybe this one won’t go to Daniel after all. 

This is something for a sixteen-year-old Sean to hold onto. This is all his hopes and dreams manifested into a single image; a boy with hardly anything left, just dreaming of a simpler time. Of being in the woods again, kissing another boy by lantern light. 

Here he is, laying next to him in their bed, in their house. They’re both smiling, Finn’s missing tooth glaringly obvious, and there’s a glint on the ring on his left hand where it lays over his heart. 

“So…” Finn’s eyes are glued to the picture. He doesn’t look up at Sean when he speaks. “We get to keep this one, right?” 

“Oh yeah. For sure.” 

He reaches into the drawer of the side table for something, feeling around until he finds it. 

Aha. That damn pen. 

_8/26/20_

_Home._

**Author's Note:**

> i didn’t plan on writing this but a friend mentioned the idea and then it wrote itself! so here’s something small while i cope with my episode 5 feelings and get back on track to the wastelands fic . i hope you all enjoy!


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